don't forget his heart
by Tiffany Blews
Summary: There's no pregnancy, no baby, but Quinn's got a nasty habit that she can't seem to shake. Quinn/Puck.


**title:** don't forget his heart

**fandom: **glee

**pairing: **puck/quinn

**summary:** There's no pregnancy, no baby, but Quinn's got a nasty habit that she can't seem to shake.

* * *

After the first time, Quinn swears to herself that it was just a lampse in judgement.

She felt fat and the alcohol was sweet on her tongue and she messed up. She thinks its okay, seeing as how much time she devotes to making sure her life is aboslutely perfect. She's a good girl, and she's permitted to atleast one mistake.

She only feels a little bad about the whole Finn thing. Yeah, she cheated, but he's practically doing the same thing with that showtune-singing freak. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

Quinn rips the memory from her mind and decides to never, _never _think about it again.

* * *

Puck doesn't say a word at school.

She tries her best to keep her eyes from meeting his, but when she looks his way once during Spanish, he's staring right at her. He smirks, and Quinn's quick to return her eyes to the test on her desk. She cringes on the inside, worries that he might tell someone. What would she do? Her reputation would be tarnished, the name Quinn Fabray wouldn't mean anything anymore.

She remembers what he said that night.

_Our secret, baby. _

Maybe Puck's a man of his word.

* * *

A note in her locker, and Quinn looks around, unfolds it carefully.

_I meant what I said. _

(She hears his voice: _this isn't just another hook-up for me._)

Quinn sighs, relief.

* * *

Same scene, different setting.

Quinn's having trouble remembering exactly how she got here. It's like someone hit fast forward on her life, and somehow she ended up in Mike's basement with Puck. He's got his hand on her thigh, his eyes burning trails all over her body, and she'd like to deny it, but the truth is that she's completely sober and she's giving in just like she did before.

"Puck, no. Once was enough, okay?"

He tilts his head to the side, full lips curving deliciously, "Baby, come on. Your secret's safe with me."

That shouldn't be enough to get her in bed, but it is.

* * *

Quinn wakes up on the couch in Mike's basement, this time without a headache, and Puck's got his arm thrown across her waist, caging her in. She sighs and slips out of his grasp, trying to make as little noise as possible. She dresses in semi-darkness, fumbling as she tries to find every piece of clothing she shed last night.

Before she leaves, she shoots a quick glance in Puck's direction. He looks peaceful when he's sleeping. Beautiful, kind of.

(She throws that thought in the trash along with the memory of the first time, and, now, the second.)

* * *

"What do you want, Puck?"

He's leaning up against the locker next to hers, a smirk on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

"You, of course."

Quinn glares at him, twists the lock and takes out what she needs. She scoops her binders into her arms and walks away, ponytail swishing behind her.

"Quinn, wait."

She rolls her eyes as Puck jogs a few steps to catch up. He puts a hand on her arm, turns her to face him.

"Look, about all this... I - "

Quinn swallows, "Mistakes. They were mistakes."

His lips form a line, "Mistakes that you enjoyed."

"Whatever, Puck."

She turns to walk away but he catches her arm again, "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Don't say anything." She backs away from him, venom leaking into her voice, "Just leave me alone."

* * *

She joins Glee to watch over Finn (when really it should be the other way around.)

She finds that she actually enjoys it, which is weird, but it's a bonus, she guesses. It makes her happy, she can keep an eye on Finn, _and_ she can be Coach's rat. It's a win, win, win situation.

That is, until Puck comes along with Matt and Mike in tow, a big smirk on his lips. He takes a seat beside her as Mr. Shue helps Rachel and Finn with their solo's, his leg pressing up against hers. She cringes away, feels his stare all over her face.

"So you're stalking me now?"

"You wish."

Quinn feels the urge to smile and she supresses it, shoves it away and scowls instead.

"Why are you here, then?"

Puck smiles, something in her reacts, and she feels warmth, everywhere, "I'm talented, baby. You know that."

Quinn rolls her eyes, scoots her chair over to the left, "Stay away from me."

"You don't want me to, Quinn. Just fucking admit it already."

He gets up and lopes across the room, takes a seat next to Mike.

Quinn smiles. She likes it when he's angry.

* * *

Third time's the charm.

"Wine cooler?"

Puck's got whiskey on his breath, but his eyes are clear and he keeps shooting glances in Finn's direction. Quinn smoothes her hands over her dress, tries to steady herself. She can't believe she's doing this, Finn's _here_, he's in the same _room_, and she's gravitating towards Puck like she belongs at his side.

"I'm good."

"You're being risky." He comments, reclining his head on the back of the wall he's leaning against.

"To be risky, I would have to place myself in an enviroment where I'm in danger of doing something I shouldn't," she says, sharply.

"Oh?"

"Two times, Puck. There were two times, but now it's over."

He's quiet and then, "It doesn't have to be."

Quinn swallows, "Yes, it does. I'm not one of _those _girls."

Puck laughs harshly, pushes away from the wall, "Then what are you doing here, Quinn?"

He walks away and she doesn't catch sight of him again until two am, when the party's winding down and Finn's long gone. She watches him from across the room, her insides all tied up, her head a mess of emotions. What is she _doing_?

Puck comes over, slowly, lazily. He's making her wait, and she hates it. He raises an eyebrow, crosses his arms and stands in front of her.

She shrugs, "I'm still here."

* * *

"So this is how it is? You fuck me behind closed doors and pretend like it didn't happen in public?"

Quinn begins walking at a quicker pace, "Don't say that word."

Puck groans in frustration, "Fine. We _do it_ and then you treat me like trash at school?"

Quinn nods curtly.

Puck catches her arm, "Look, the sneaking around I can handle. The bitch act? That's a deal breaker."

"I don't even want there to _be_ a deal."

"Then stop coming around."

Quinn bites her lip, looks away.

"Okay, I'm done. Talk to me when you figure out what you want."

* * *

"Is there something, like, wrong?"

God, Finn - shit, um. First the Lord's name in vain, then a curse word. What is _wrong _with her? Quinn says a prayer, _excuse those words, Father, _and then she looks at Finn, tries to smile.

"No." She shakes her head. Finn smiles, big and dumb, wraps an arm around her shoulders. She feels sudden guilt creep into her stomach as he begins chattering about football and things that don't matter, and all she can think about is the fact that she chastises him for skimming his fingers over her bra, when Puck's had his hands all over her.

What happened? Why did she do it? And, most importantly, why does she keep going back?

* * *

Quinn doesn't talk to Puck for about a week.

He's in Glee everyday, but she doesn't let her eyes stray and he doesn't make any effort to get in her line of vision. She feels the dynamic shifting back to normal, she can breathe again, finally.

The guilt she felt when Finn asked her if everything was okay is still slowly seeping into her mind, gradually making her feel worse and worse about what she did. She knows she'll never tell him, she couldn't bare to hurt him, and she knows it's better this way, but she still can't shake the dishonest feeling that's settled in her chest.

She wonders if Puck feels bad, wonders if he even cares at all, or if he's already moved on from whatever it was that they had.

* * *

Just when Quinn thinks it's over, and Puck's had his fun, he's back in her life, his tall form leaning against her locker.

She doesn't say anything to him, and he doesn't say anything to her, so it's really just him watching as she takes out all her books. She tries to come up with something, but words are failing her right now, and she can feel his eyes steadily watching her face.

"You figure it out, yet?"

Quinn swallows, finally looks at him, "No."

Puck nods, turns on his heel, but before he can get too far away, (she doesn't know why) she pulls him back.

"No, I haven't figured it out. Yes, I do wanna..." she sighs, shakes her head.

"You wanna fuck around with me behind Finn's back?"

She slaps his arm lightly, feels a tiny smile on her face.

"I take that as a yes."

* * *

Fifth time and Quinn doesn't leave.

They're in Puck's bed, all the lights off, some cd playing quietly in the background. He's got his arm wrapped around her shoulders, her head laying on his chest. Quinn's busy tracing patterns across his skin, trying to figure out exactly what it is that she's feeling inside.

"I should go."

Puck laughs, "You _should _be at home in your own bed, but you're not. Since you're breaking rules anyway, why don't you just go ahead and stay?"

Quinn laughs, tucks herself tighter into his side.

* * *

"Drizzle's a cool name."

Quinn wants to comment on how _stupid_ that is, but her mind's not really in the conversation, anyway, so she lets Finn keep talking. He's going on and on about random things, and Quinn finds herself wishing for Puck, wishing for the easy silence that they sometimes share.

She's still got guilt in her stomach, but it fades a little each time Finn's eyes linger on Rachel. She knows what he's thinking, and she knows that she should just end it. She wants to, she does, she just can't. She almost does it, a couple of times, then she imagines the way he'd look at her, so confused and sad and hurt, and she backs out.

What happens when they break up? Will Puck step up and say he wants to be with her, or will he forget about her because the excitement's gone? She doesn't know, and she's not ready to find out.

* * *

Puck starts texting her.

Quinn's always been a little paranoid, it's a stupid trait, so she saves his number under an exclamation mark just in case. She smiles when it pops up on the screen; if Puck was a punctuation mark, that would definitely be him.

She sometimes worries that Finn will see the messages, but she knows she's giving him too much credit. Finn would never be suspicious enough to doubt her, add in the fact that she's got an iPhone, and he'll never find out.

Most of the time, they're useless texts that don't mean anything, but, occasionally, there's something to them that makes her heart beat hard in her chest.

_Miss you._

Quinn smiles.

* * *

"I want you to sing a song describing how you feel right now."

Easy enough, Quinn thinks as Mr. Shue hands out the assignment. She can do this.

Fast foward a week later, and Quinn's got nothing to sing. Not one song came to mind, so now she's sitting in the choir room, watching Rachel sing The Climb and lock eyes with Finn. She looks away, shoots a glance at Puck who's across the room. He's got his head leaned back on the wall, guitar in his hands. It's been a couple of days, and she lets her mind wander to him and how she...

"Who's next?" Mr. Shue calls, looking around the room. Quinn ducks her head, and out of the corner of her eye, she sees Puck raise his hand.

"Puck. Come on down."

He looks shy as he takes his spot in the middle of the room, and Quinn finds that she likes the emotion on him. He begins to sing...

Dirty Little Secret.

Quinn hides her smile pretty spectacularly, but his words get to her and soon enough the whole room's singing along. He's grinning widely, playing his guitar and swaying while he sings, enjoying the attention.

He's so... _Puck_.

"Wonder what that's about." Finn murmurs, and Quinn's stomach plummets.

"It's Puck. Who knows?"

(She does.)

* * *

Seventh time and Quinn's taking directions from a note dropped in her locker.

_My house, tonight. _

The romance makes her heart flutter; a note, who _does _that? He has her phone number, but he's going the extra mile, and she likes it.

The house is dark when she arrives, all the lights out, and Quinn gets nervous. Puck is unsettling on his own, but Puck with an agenda is kind of terrifying.

She knocks, no answer. Again, and nothing. Finally, she tries the knob and, look at that, it's unlocked. She steps in, looks around.

"Puck?" She calls, walking further into the room.

"In here." He answers, and Quinn follows his voice through the living room and into the kitchen. There are candles on the table, a pizza in the middle, two plates set up on each side. Puck moves into her line of vision, collared shirt on his chest and a shy look on his face.

She smirks, "What is this?"

Puck rubs his neck, blushes, "A date?"

Quinn smiles so hard she thinks her face might crack.

* * *

Things change after that.

Quinn stops being so careful with Puck, starts giving a little more of herself to him. Finn fades so far into the background that when he kisses her or tells her he loves her, she starts a little. She almost breaks it off about a hundred times within the week, but she can't go through with it.

Puck never says anything about his best friend when they're together, and Quinn doesn't mind. She could go on like this forever, she tells herself. She could, if she wanted. And she just might because...

(She's scared that if she's not with Finn anymore, Puck will get bored.)

* * *

Ninth time and Quinn's smirking as Puck gathers his clothes from the floor of her room.

Her parents are home early and she can hear them moving around downstairs, her mother's heels clacking on the tile.

"Shit shit _shit_." Puck mutters, slipping on his pants, his shirt clutched tight in his hands. He runs over to the bed, kisses her quickly.

"This is so not funny." He says as he jumps out of her window.

She laughs.

* * *

"You ever think about, like, the future?"

She and Finn are in the library, Spanish books open on the table between them. She's trying to study but Puck keeps texting her and Finn won't shut _up_, like always.

"Sometimes." She answers, her eyes scanning her study guide.

Finn nods, "Do you think about us, in the future?"

Quinn's mouth falls open, and her eyebrows furrow. Honestly, the future is really blurry right now. She closes her eyes at night, and nothing solid forms. She doesn't know.

"We need to study, Finn."

And that's the end of the conversation.

* * *

A rose in her locker.

There's no note on it, but Quinn knows, anyway.

Noah Puckerman, hopeless romantic.

She love - _likes _that side of him.

* * *

"I know what's going on."

It's an ordinary Thursday afternoon at Cheerios practice, and Quinn's head snaps up, her eyes landing on Santana's angry ones.

"I know what's going on," Santana repeats, "And you need to stay away from him."

Quinn rolls her eyes, slips into the personality she's been losing touch with, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Santana raises an eyebrow, "You don't? Oh, so you haven't been fucking Puck on the DL. Damn, I was really off base."

Quinn's face turns ugly, "That's ridiculous, San. You need a more realiable gossip source." She sneers, flounces away.

She tastes bile in her throat as she walks.

* * *

"Santana knows, Puck."

Puck scoffs, "Santana doesn't know _shit_, and neither does anyone else."

Quinn claps her hand down on his arm, "She told me to stay away from you. She knows."

Puck looks down, away from her eyes, he swallows, "Well, maybe it's a good thing."

"_What_?"

Puck shurgs, "Maybe I'm tired of being your side item."

Quinn can't breathe, "What do you mean?"

He meets her eyes, "Break it off with Finn. Be with me."

* * *

Quinn doesn't break up with Finn (she doesn't know why), and Puck doesn't speak to her for days.

Everything's stupid and nothing makes sense. Finn tries to fix the problem, but really he only adds to it and she ends up snapping at him ninety-nine percent of the time.

* * *

She catches Santana and Puck making out in the hallway.

When she gets sick Rachel Berry's the one holding her hair and it's not ironic at all.

Quinn pushes her away the moment it's over, she wipes her mouth and stares at herself in the mirror. She can see Rachel in the reflection, and she looks... uncomfortable. Guilty.

She runs out into the hallway before Quinn can say anything about it.

* * *

Finn starts pulling away from her.

They barely speak, and when they do, he fumbles over his words (more than usual) and never meets her eyes. He's eight hundred times more annoying than before; Quinn avoids him, most of the time.

Puck doesn't look at her Glee. Santana sits beside him everyday, and when she catches Quinn staring, she makes sure to scoot closer to him and put her hand on his thigh.

Everything's a mess.

* * *

"IkissedRachel."

Quinn looks up from her English assignment, "_What_?"

Finn swallows, his eyes are scared and she doesn't know what she feels.

"I kissed Rachel. I'm so sorry Quinn. I didn't mean it but I just - "

"Finn," Quinn interupts, "Shut up for a second."

He nods furiously, looks away from her. Quinn breathes slowly for a moment, tries to make sense of things.

"You cheated on me."

"Yeah. Yes. I shouldn't have I'm sorry but Rachel and she - I just felt and we haven't been... So sorry... and... Rachel... couldn't..."

Quinn shakes her head, "Finn. Finn, shut up and listen."

He looks at her, "I'm sorry for being so awful to you lately, okay? And... You kissed Rachel, I get it. Don't feel bad about it."

Finn's eyebrows pull together, "You're not mad?"

"No, Finn, I'm not. I... did some things I'm not exactly proud of and I treated you really badly, so no, I'm not mad."

Finn still looks confused.

"I... kissed someone, too, okay? So... how about this: we stop dating, but we stay friends?"

"We're breaking up?"

Quinn touches his shoulder, "Yeah, Finn, we are."

* * *

The week after the break up passes slowly and uneventfully.

And it's not like Quinn expected Puck to just, like, jump at the chance to be with her. She didn't. Really.

She did, however, expect him to atleast show a little interest.

He walks around like she doesn't exsist, doesn't even look her way in Glee, and there no exclamation mark texts on her phone. Santana makes less of an appearance on his arm, and that's the only sign on change.

Quinn spends each day waiting patiently for something that never comes.

* * *

On Monday of the next week, she makes a move.

_Miss you. No more secrets, just me and you. Talk to me when you figure it out._

Dropped in his locker and sealed with a kiss.

* * *

It takes three days, but on Friday, when Quinn shows up at school, Puck's waiting at her locker.

She unlocks her combination, waits for him to say something.

"Just me and you?"

Quinn smiles, turns to face him.

"Mhm."

"No secrets."

She nods, "All truth, all the time."

"Uh, that might be a problem."

"Puck!"

He smiles, throws an arm around her shoulder.


End file.
